I decided to try a daily prompt, because it seems fun. A break from the regular.
When was the first time you really felt like a grown up (if ever)?
I had just gotten my driver’s license and was ready to get a car. My parents had promised to have a car for me when I had my license, but my parents have always been as responsible as teenagers. If I had to wait for them to get me a car, I would have had it by 2043. I had some money saved from my factory job though, so I began the search for a car.
Reading through the newspaper under the used cars section yielded the best car I’ve ever owned. A 1989 white Corsica, it was glorious. When I knocked on the door a grandmotherly woman answered. Her and her husband had taken very good care of this cute little white four door car sitting out front. The inside was tan and didn’t have any airbags; the passenger side had a weird shelf like piece of plastic in front of them above the glove box. The steering wheel wasn’t thick like the ones now are with the airbag in the center. The car looked brand new despite it being about 15 years old.
It was being sold for 1,600 dollars, I had 1,100. My grandma loaned me the extra 500, and with that I owned my very first car. It was mine, not my parents, all mine. Despite already having a job, this was the first time I felt grown up because I could now drive myself to that job and didn’t have to rely on anyone. This was so important to me because I absolutely despise being late for anything, and my parents were late for everything. I could now make everything on time!
I drove that car so much. If you have ever lived in a small town, you know the only thing to do it drive laps around that town. That’s what I did, just continuous laps around my town with my best friend. Sometimes we would go on mini-road trips driving down dirt roads, discovering abandoned barns and houses. Once we ended up out by a nuclear power plant and turned around in a driveway of a house that looked like it could have been in the movie Deliverance. We raced against our friend’s vehicles, though the Corsica never won, no one ever expect it to. Owning that car was the first time I ever felt the freedom of getting away from my family.
Now I live on my own, have yellow Cobalt because the Corsica died a few years ago. Moved out of my very small town, I still visit my mom in there. My dad is out of my life, in prison or somewhere I don’t care about. My best friend is no longer my best friend. I have been to college, am trying to go to law school in the fall. I pay bills, grocery shop, and all these other grown up things. My life has changed immensely, but whenever I see a Corsica I still smile.